Chapter 4: Breaking Point

Chapter 4: Breaking Point

The argument echoed through the empty gym like thunder.

“You’re a fucking liar, Zach!” Marcus shouted, his voice loud and angry. “You’ve been distant for months, every time I come here, you’re with him, everything is always about him… Noah this, Noah that. I’m fucking sick and tired of it!”

​Zach stood shirtless in the middle of the boxing ring, his chest heaving as the sweat dried cold on his skin, his hands were clenched into tight fists. He just stared at the ropes without looking at Marcus with his eyes burning with pure rage.

​“We’re done, Marcus,” Zach growled, his voice wasn’t loud, but it had a heavy, final tone to it. “I told you last week. I’m not doing this toxic shit with you again.”

​Marcus let out a bitter, ugly laugh, stepping closer to where he was standing. He was handsome in a polished way, well suited up with expensive cologne but right now his face twisted with bitter jealousy. “Done? Just like that? You’re throwing us away for him? Because of a soft little designer who follows you around like a lost puppy?”

Admit it, Zach. You’ve got feelings for him the whole time.”

​Zach jaw went tight, his eyes dark with a sudden, vicious flash of anger. “Shut the fuck up. Noah is my best friend so leave him out of your insecure bullshit.”

​Marcus spat an insult under his breath before he turned on his heel, and stormed out, slamming the heavy metal door so hard the glass pane rattled.

The accusations stayed stuck in Zach's head, he stood there for a long moment, breathing hard, staring at the empty floor. The dragon tattoo on his shoulder seemed to flex with every tense breath. He ran a hand through his damp hair and cursed under his breath.

“Fuck.”

An hour later, they were at Ryan’s rooftop bar.

​Noah had dropped the sketches he was working on the second Zach called him at home. One look at Zach’s tensed face when he arrived, and Noah knew something was seriously wrong.

They sat in their usual corner booth with the city light sparkling behind them. Ryan had quietly brought their usual drinks and given them space. Zach was already on his third drink, staring blankly ahead.

“Talk to me,” Noah said softly as he leaned closer. He reached out and placed his hand on Zach’s forearm, rubbing his thumb in soft, slow soothing circles. “What happened?”

Zach let out a dry bitter laugh and downed the rest of his drink. “Marcus and I are over for good this time. He showed up at the gym screaming about how I’m always spending time with you, even accused me of having feelings for you.” He shook his head. “Fucking ridiculous.”

Noah’s heart skipped a beat. He kept his expression neutral, but his stomach twisted with a confusing mix of emotions, he felt a weird mix of relief, guilt, and something dangerously warm.

“But are you okay?” Noah asked softly.

Zach turned to look at him, really look at him. The intensity in those captivating eyes made it hard for Noah’s breath well.

​“I don’t know,” Zach admitted. “I’m just tired… Noah. Tired of relationships that always lead nowhere. People only want the fighter version of me, the money, the status, the rough sex but they can’t handle the real me.” He looked down, his voice dropping. “I’m tired of feeling alone even when I am not.”

​Noah’s chest ached badly for him. He slid closer until their legs were touching under the table. “You’re not alone, you’ve never been alone. I’m right here… I’ve always been right here with you.”

​Zach stared at him for a long time. He reached out and moved a stray curl away from Noah’s forehead, his warm hand lingering on his skin.

“You’ve always been my safe place,” Zach murmured, his voice rough with emotion and alcohol. “Through every fight, every injury, every bad decision. You’re the only one who really sees the real me.”

​Noah’s heart was pounding now. The air between them felt heavy and hot, just like on the mats earlier. He could still feel the ghost of Zach’s hardness pressed against him.

“And you’ve always protected me,” Noah replied softly. “Even when I didn’t deserve it. Even when I was just that awkward kid at the party who never belonged.”

Zach smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach his eyes, he signaled Ryan for another round of drinks.

​They talked for hours as the bar got quiet, about their past relationships, loneliness and the stress of their lives. Noah opened up about how empty his own success felt sometimes and Zach admitted how the underground fighting world was starting to wear on him, the whiskey was definitely hitting Zach now, making him say things he usually kept hidden.

​As the night deepened, Zach leaned in closer, he looked a little drunk, but still devastatingly handsome.

​“Maybe…” Zach said, his voice dropping to a low whisper, “Maybe I’ve been looking at the wrong person this whole time.”

Noah froze, his heart hammering against his ribs. Zach’s gaze dropped to his lips for a second, his eyes dark and hungry, before he looked away.

​Before Noah could say anything, Zach’s hand slid under the table. He placed his large palm heavy on Noah’s inner thigh, his thumb started to rub slowly, moving higher and higher, right up against the hard shape growing in Noah’s pants.

​Noah didn't move. He couldn't even breathe.